Just finished a book by an author I usually like. The plot was okay. The characters were there, and I knew what I needed to know about them. The ending was a culmination of plot events, and everything added up.
And I felt absolutely nothing.
I might have been reading the phone book or a cereal box for all the interest or excitement I got from the book. There was nothing wrong, not really, but something was just not right. I didn't care about the characters, didn't have much reaction when the murderer was revealed, didn't much care that the protagonist found love (or at least some hot sex) at the end.
Obviously, the author wasn't passionate about this one, and her lack of passion was most definitely catching. I propose that we write the books we really care about. Or don't write.